Find Love
by Lady Isshin
Summary: Her mother was so wrong. She knew it then and knew it now. Miroku was Miroku and he was never going to change. Sango ponders her non-relationship with the monk. AU.


Time for some shameless mush. I hope you're all up for it :)

Timeline is total crack. This is AU.

Disclaimer: I do not own or profit from any characters, plot or anything else related to Inuyasha.

**Find Love**

* * *

Four Years.

She couldn't rightly believe that four years had passed since she left and this whole mess began. Years of running only to be followed by the one who had driven her away to begin with. Sometimes she would catch some luck and lose him, but he always had a way of catching up at the next stop. She couldn't get away from him. He was too good. Too sly. It made her crazy.

So it brought her to this moment, sitting at the side of their modest fire, Kirara curled in her lap snoring, while she fought to keep her eyelids up. All of this was tiresome. She just wanted a soft bed to curl up in. She wanted to feel safe. But tonight instead of a nice mattress she had a few blankets and a carefully cleared patch of ground within range of the fire's warmth.

The man across from her cursed and flinched when the wind kicked sparks in his direction. Their gazes brushed and she looked down, letting her overgrown bangs shield her perfectly from his sight.

Oh what she wouldn't give for this fruitless chase to be over! It would give her the chance to return home, to try and rebuild relationships and be at peace. She knew things would never work out to be so, not the way she had left things. Her parents drove a hard bargain. A terrifying bargain. That's why she ran.

She would never bring herself to give in. A normal life was beyond her reach. She would never be able to watch her little brother grow into a man. She would never have another heart to heart with her mother. She would never hunt again alongside her father.

'_And it was all _his_ fault.'_

_He_ was the reason she was on the run. Her misery was at his hands. It burned her blood and set a rage in her she couldn't subdue.

Sango shifted her legs and crossed them beneath her, the small demon murmuring in protest. She stroked the soft fur and whispered to her friend. Those red eyes blinked up at her and Kirara yawned before dropping back into sleep.

The slayer was jealous. If only she had it that easy.

In that instant she felt his eyes on her and lifted her gaze to squint through the flames. Miroku looked away as soon as their eyes met, trying to hide how much he had been staring. Sango stayed her gaze, waited as the priest slowly brought his back to her. She could see he had something he wanted to say, but he stayed silent.

This bothered her. She could feel the discomfort and uncertainty in her own eyes and she looked away to the fire. She sighed and ran her fingers through the dirt.

She hated this.

Four years... she had only been fifteen and still just a girl. Her parents had deemed it a good fit, but she had wanted nothing to do with Miroku. He had been immature and perverted, a stark contrast to the Holy Man he claimed to be. Not much had changed since then.

She had never liked him, hadn't considered liking him even as they met. There had been something about the way he had looked at her that she found distaste in. Marriage to this fool was _not_ an option. He on the other hand fell for her and never had strayed from that path. Back then he was always around, trying to make her smile or laugh. That hadn't been so bad, but when he tried to get her to let him kiss her or touch her, that had been bad.

By some act of grace Sango had convinced her parents to hold off the wedding. She hadn't been ready and they had taken pity on her. It helped that her brother had chimed in and begged them not to send her away. Eventually though her stubborn protests had done her more harm than good, and her parents made the proper arrangements.

Sango had pleaded with her mother to call it off, foolishly using love in her defense. She didn't love him! How could she make her daughter marry a man she didn't love when she had been so blessed to do that herself. Her mother had laughed, waving her off as a naïve and silly girl. She had tried to comfort her daughter with her own tale of arranged marriage. She explained how she had detested her betrothed, but over time, she had found love for the man.

Sango's mother had expected her to find _love_ for _Miroku_.

At the time she had only been sixteen. A very _scared _and very _angry_ sixteen year old to boot. Her mother's apparent indifference had stung, and even though it had been many years since that conversation, she still carried a shred of that pain.

Back then she had known Miroku for a little over a year, and she knew that if she hadn't even learned to tolerate him in that time, she would never "find love" for him. If anything, she had found more disgust, irritation and distaste for him. As far as she was concerned, his company would _never_ grow on her.

She knew she had hurt him. He had made it painfully obvious that he was crazy for her and that he wanted nothing more than her love in return. Then she had found little regret for hurting her. She had believed it had been his own fault for investing in a pointless situation. She didn't hold herself responsible for his broken heart.

So Sango ran away. She packed a modest bag and ran. She wouldn't go on with her family's plans for her life. She would find a life that she wanted. She would roam and hunt and find others who would join her battle. No matter how much it hurt. The first time he showed up she had freaked. Why couldn't he just _go away_?

"Sango."

She jerked her head up at the sound of his voice, focusing to her left where it had sounded. Miroku was at her side now. Kirara had left her lap and had curled up in the blankets behind her with Shippou. She realized Inuyasha was snoring somewhere a ways behind her and that the fire had even started to die. She shook her head with a sigh. She must have been lost in her own mind for a long time.

She took a moment to collect herself. "What is it, Miroku?" she said softly. It wasn't until she heard her own voice that she realized how tired she sounded.

Miroku stopped himself from speaking for a moment, pausing to rethink himself. "Is something wrong?" he asked instead.

Sango looked back to the fire and shook her head. "I was just thinking."

"About?" the monk prodded, setting himself down from his kneel.

"Just... some things. It's nothing. I'm fine," she lied, wanting him to take the hint and shut up.

Her escape would have been perfect if he had never tracked her down. She had never quite lost him. He would disappear for weeks at a time, but she knew better than to feel free. He was just too good at finding her. And if it hadn't been for this whole mess with Naraku, she was pretty sure that she _would_ be free.

Because if Naraku had never shown up, then she and her friends wouldn't be in such a horrible place. And even though it pained her to admit it, she wouldn't have to worry whether or not Miroku would be around the next day. She may not be his biggest fan, but she certainly wouldn't wish his curse on anyone.

The demon slayer could feel him staring at her again and cast him a sidelong glance. Something was bothering him. She didn't want to care but found herself asking anyway.

"What's bothering you, Miroku?"

Her question caught him off guard but he answered regardless. "You wouldn't care to know."

Wait? Did he just wave her off?

She cast him another sideways look. He was frustrating sometimes.

"I asked, didn't I?" she reminded, raising her eyebrow and resituating herself so she could see him.

He shrugged and breathed out a chuckle. "Alright. I don't know that you'd actually want to hear it though."

Sango shook her head. What was his deal? He was always trying to 'connect' with her, and here she was asking a question only to be brushed off. She wasn't even sure why she bothered. Her pointed look did more good than her words, as it seemed, because even though her comrade took on a more somber expression, he answered her.

"I was simply remembering," he answered apologetically. "I didn't think it was something you wanted dredged up, so forgive me."

Sango definitely didn't miss the irony.

"Funny you should mention that," was her less-than-mirthful response. She wasn't sure of Miroku's expression because now she was staring down at her feet. But she could feel the tension thicken.

"Funny? Why is that?"

"Me too."

A lot of time had passed since then and time had definitely helped her to mature. Sure, Miroku was still Miroku, but just as she had grown and changed, so had he. She found that she was still trying to convince herself daily that she hated him, and that it was her fault her life had been ruined, but it became more and more difficult to do so. It was small moments like these, when he wasn't being a jerk, that she managed to question her burning hatred for the guy.

Even if it annoyed her frequently, he had always been there when it mattered. He was always the first one to try and help her or fix it. It was a dangerous world they lived in, and even though she was an equally dangerous woman, sometimes she needed help. He had always helped and taken care of her when the occasion required.

A few months ago, the gang had gone their separate ways and she had been fell upon by a party of possessed Samurai. They had overwhelmed her and used her. Miroku found her not long after and hunted them down, sustaining his own injuries. It hadn't been done for him. He had sought them out for _her_.

He was also there on nights like this, when painful memories abounded, and even though she was proud, it just hurt too much to hurt alone. He knew her well, and knew that she didn't need someone to talk to. She needed silent commiseration, and he too was no stranger of that need. They took care of each other like friends. Miroku was loyal and good. She admitted it. It was too much of an effort to be angry all of the time. Perhaps there had been a grain of salt to her mother's speeches.

'_No!'_ she though wildly to herself, shaking the thought away. She admitted to harboring hurt and letting her ego reign, so much so that it was sometimes hard to admit that Miroku wasn't half bad.

Sango felt a sudden surge of something unwelcome in her chest, akin to desperation. It twisted and pressed hard against her lungs. She needed to hear him say something, and she was going to feel like a fool for doing. But do it she would.

"Miroku?"

"Yes?"

"After all of this time you're still following me," she began, taking care not to sound accusing. At risk of sounding cruel, she continued. "You must have figured out by now that it's pointless."

She heard the long draw of breath and nervous pause after her words, though mentioned nothing of them. She always avoided this conversation, but she had finally realized that she couldn't run anymore. There was no putting it off until later. Later was here, and it wasn't going away.

"Sango, don't ask pointless questions," he answered uncomfortably.

"It's not pointless," she countered. "Yes, I know your initial motivations, but I don't understand is: why still?"

"You know I followed you because I couldn't lose you. You thought I was pathetic, and maybe I was, but hope is still hope, Sango. I had hope for you. _Have_ hope for you," he answered, his openness still managing to rattle her. "But you know that. Why play the fool?"

Sango paused, collecting herself. "We've both changed. We're not kids anymore," she said, and he nodded his agreement. "I just thought... maybe you fought for something new."

"Sango, my motives will always be for you." She hated how he sounded hopeless.

She shook her head and looked away from him, just as he did her. "I'm sure someone else would have welcomed you, someone who would be kinder."

"I'm sure someone would have. But I care about you. At first, yes, I was young, I was stupid. I was scared of being alone and I used it as an excuse to follow you." He picked up a rock and turned it over in his sheathed hand before throwing it into the woods.

Sango frowned. "Miroku, surely-"

"And you know that I'm still here now because of that. I... I can't be happy without you." He made to get up and walk away, making it clear that he was upset. "There, you have my answer," he muttered.

He couldn't leave though. Sango reached out on instinct and grabbed for his wrist, holding tight to the beads. He looked down at her, uncertainty on his face. He was shocked with the image he found.

Silent tears were sliding down Sango's cheeks as she pulled on his arm. He could see her blush in the dark and the way she struggled to put herself back together. "Look, I... You don't understand everything yet."

Miroku should have been mad at her, should have shrugged her off and she would have deserved the sick feeling it would have left her with. Instead he turned and lowered to the ground, taking her hands. They were shaking around hers, and still shaking when he dared to reach up and brush at her tears. "What is it? Don't cry..."

She had always been a mess on the inside, but now she was just as much a mess on the outside. She was a terrible person. All of her emotions had been hidden beneath her anger, using it as an excuse for her cruel behavior. How she had been able to hurt him so easily was sick, but she was starting to understand just how deep her wounds had cut.

He was devoted to her and she was taking it for granted. He cared so much and loved her relentless of her icy indifference. She walked all over him. She _lied_ to him.

Appropriately she realized the weight of her mother's words. They were so true that she couldn't handle the thought.

"_You will find love for him."_

She had hated her mother for that and lived so vehemently against it. How could she have been so _stupid_? How could she have ignored her own heart?

"Sango, please, talk to-"

The slayer shook her head and sniffed back her tears. "You shouldn't be so kind to me!"

This seemed to trip him up, rendering him silent.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was hoarse. She looked up, searching his face for the concern she knew would be there. It was there in abundance and weighed on her heavily. A sob was forcing its way through her but she bit it back. Instead a soft cry slipped out and she dropped her face from his worried eyes. Her chest hurt. She was scared.

"Sorry about what?" Miroku asked gently, trying to pacify her as he brushed his fingers along her jaw again. She didn't swat him away.

"I'm driving you away, aren't I?" she asked, resting her hand over his and taking a tight hold of his other. "Everything I do hurts you, doesn't it? I-"

There was a panic to the way the monk was trying to soothe her tears, and it made her feel sick. "Don't say that."

"Answer my question. You treat me like a Queen. I treat you worse than you treat me well. I tread on your well-being while you look out for me regardless. I don't deserve this treatment. I don't deserve your companionship."

"Listen to me. I want you to stop crying. I don't want to see your pretty face upset like this again. Yes, it hurts sometimes. I won't lie to you. But I can let go of it and find joy in you," he admitted, his words sounding a bit desperate albeit still worn brazenly on his sleeve.

"I don't want to hurt you anymore, I don't want to be cruel. I get so wrapped up in the past and I get angry and I just get so-"

"Shh. It's alright Sango. I know it scares you but I can't lie to you. I love you. Nothing you can do will change that. I'll deal."

"Before I ran my mother told me I would find love for you. I didn't understand. I didn't know how that could work. Ever," Sango said, feeling a bit of strength return to her voice as she claimed control over her tears. She squeezed his hand even tighter.

"I'm not following."

"I've been so stupid!" she exclaimed. "And I don't deserve your forgiveness, don't tell me that I do." She paused mid-tirade, taking a deep breath and trying to collect herself. "Oh god this hurts."

"Don't let it hurt you. Talk to me, let me help you." Miroku's voice wavered noticeably.

"Don't falter, not because of me," Sango begged, her eyes doing more pleading than her words ever could. "You're always happy. I need you to stay like that. I can't make it if you aren't."

"I'm not always happy, Sango."

"I can't be happy if you aren't."

Her statement blindsided him, rendered him speechless.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I get it now. I get my mother's babbling, I get you, I get all of the things I think stupid that you do. I care about you, I can't deny it any longer. I've learned it, and I've found what I need."

Miroku's expression was guarded. "And what do you need?" he asked breathily, the fear and anticipation mixed so beautifully in his eyes.

Sango felt the ghost of a smile crack on her lips before she let down all her walls and took a leap of faith.

"You."

**End.**

**

* * *

**

A/N: There you have it. I hope you all enjoyed. I know I love some silly fluff from time to time. I'd love to hear from everyone, so don't be afraid to drop me a line and send me a review. Until next time~


End file.
